


Probability

by Cosmic_Biscuit



Category: Avengers (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Biscuit/pseuds/Cosmic_Biscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's having to work this mission alone, his Tallus is malfunctioning, he has no idea how long this mission will last, and the Avengers are protecting his suspected targets. And as if all that weren't enough, not everything is as simple as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Probability

With Jan and Hank gone for the week, Sam on patrol, and the housekeeper having been sent to handle lunch, that left Steve to act as the second set of hands for Tony's latest project obsession. Neatly sidestepping Dummy, who was wandering in and out of the way depending on whether Tony needed it to get parts or not, he passed over the acetylene torch that had been requested. "How long are you planning to spend on this?" he asked, turning his head away to keep from being blinded when the torch fired to life.

"Well, if the resident mother hens stay off my case, three more days," Tony replied from the other side of the machine, and he snorted.

"At least one of those mother hens is your own fault," he said, and grabbed his phone when the beep drowned out Tony's muttered response. "Hello?" he asked, and one of the other robots turned down the music. "Oh, hey, Jan. How's Spain?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tony put the torch down and wipe his hands on a rag, clearly listening though he pretended otherwise. The voice over the phone quickly got his attention back, though. "Wait, what? I didn't quite catch tha- you _what?"_

Tony raised an eyebrow when he froze, and he quickly shook his head in a 'hold on' motion. "No, no, it's fine. Go ahead and bring him back here, so we can get it all sorted out. Yeah, thanks. We'll be here."

"The hell was that about?" Tony asked when he snapped the phone closed. "You looked like you were about to have a heart attack for a second, there."

"Well," he said, scratching his head awkwardly as he stuffed the phone into his pocket. "Apparently, our on-leave members found an... um... another _me._ "

 

 

Jan had been providing them occasional updates as they waited for the plane to arrive, having switched over to dropping texts into Tony's cell, presumably to avoid tipping off their 'guest'. He glanced over when Tony made a noise of dry amusement. "Hm?"

"Your doppleganger is abrasive, surly, paranoid, and much more fond of conventional weapons than you," the other man replied. "About twenty years older, too. No eyepatch, though, which means we can at least rule out him actually being an alternate of Fury instead," he added, and, hard as he _tried_ to remain serious, Steve couldn't help a faint twitch of his mouth.

"Any word on why he's actually here?"

"'Stopping doomsday of some sort'," Tony read from his phone, and even through the text, he could almost _hear_ Jan barely restraining herself from rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"

"Can't say for sure. It'd be easy just to write him off, or assume ulterior motives, but... well, we _have_ seen things like Galactus before. So long as we can keep an eye on him, hearing him out can't hurt."

"Well, here's our chance," Tony said as the plane came into view. "I'll let the house denizens know we're having one extra for dinner."

He shook his head faintly, approaching the runway and bracing himself for anything coming when the plane touched down. Bracing didn't help much, however, when he looked inside the case that Hank tossed him after the door opened. "Jesus Christ. All these are _his?_ "

"Every last one," Hank replied, growing to get down to the ground without having to jump. "And that might not be the last of them, knowing our luck." He held out his hand to act as a platform, and Jan guided the newcomer out.

"Hope _you_ age better than that," Tony muttered dryly as he came up beside him, eyeing the stranger critically, and Steve gave him a gentle elbow dig in the ribs to hush. He had to admit, though, that it _was_ a rather disturbing look into the mirror. Wherever his other had come from, clearly the environment and years had not been kind. Hank set down his passengers and returned to normal size.

"Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, meet Steve Rogers," Jan deadpanned when they approached, and their guest gave her a side glance of annoyance before shrugging off her hand on his shoulder and heading towards Steve. He held his ground, returning the suspicious glare with an amiable smile.

"Jan told us you're here to assist with a future problem," he quickly cut in before his counterpart could start barking orders, putting the 'host' cues he'd picked up from Tony to good use. "I understand that the trip here may have been awkward, and you may still be uncomfortable talking in a closed space with people you don't know well yet, but it's probably for the better that we don't have this discussion in the open air, all right?"

"...Fine," the other him muttered in a low rasp, and he pretended not to hear the faint noises of relief the others made at the momentary crisis aversion as he lead the way back to the car.

 

 

"I'm what's called an Exile," his counterpart finally said once the car had started moving -and he'd made sure to sit as far away from Jan as possible, Steve noted absently. "We get picked up by Timebrokers from hour home dimensions and sent to handle time lines that are heading towards their ends."

"And stop them from continuing down the spiral," Hank said from beside him, and the newcomer nodded, rolling up the sleeve of his uniform to show a complicated-looking band with a huge red gem in the center.

"This is a Tallus. It acts as a communication device to pass information on missions between the Timebroker it's tied to and the- _team_ he or she commands." He didn't miss the hitch, and the fact that the man didn't seem to _have_ a team was also noticeable, but he chose not to call attention to it yet, filing it away for later. "Or, rather, it's _supposed_ to. Damn thing cut me off as soon as I'd finished the jump here."

"Do you have an idea what we're supposed to be warding against, at least?" Steve asked.

"It's a standard seven-twenty-four. Mechanical apocalypse," his double replied, and Hank stiffened beside him.

"Any directions on what the source is?" Jan quickly asked before her partner could open his mouth.

"Not yet," came the irritated mutter.

"We'll provide any informational help or backup we can," Tony said smoothly, picking up the 'host' mantle as they got closer to the mansion. "I'll begin running searches into major producers and possible military safety failures during lunch."

 

 

As the car stopped and they piled out, he faintly heard Jan murmur something to Tony about having already sent a heads-up to Sam and the others about their less-than-sociable guest. "Good," Tony muttered in return. "The fewer complications, the better." The Sam in question was sitting in the front room, and, thankfully, only gave their guest a passing glance as the house AI closed the door behind them. "How'd the patrols go?"

"Dull," Sam replied, hefting himself to his feet. "There was a corner mugging, but that's about it. This your new friend?"

He left them to get acquainted and went to the kitchen to see how lunch was coming. Not finding the housekeeper there, he checked the dining room, and the man looked up from setting the table.

"Oh, hi. Everything's ready, I just have to finish laying i-"

The housekeeper's arm and most of his torso suddenly exploded in a shower of metal and pieces of circuitry almost at the same moment he heard the warning yell of " _Gun!"_ from behind him. Reflexively turning, he saw Sam and Hank trying to wrestle down his doppleganger, Jan having already managed to wrench some sort of vaguely firearm looking object from his hand -the one with the sleeve he _hadn't_ rolled up, Steve registered, remembering Hank's warning that they likely hadn't found everything on him.

" _Ty!"_ Tony blew past him, and since the others seemed to have getting his other under control in hand, he joined his partner in checking on the android. Tiberius lay in a heap on the floor, visibly seizing in pain as he curled protectively around what was left of his shoulder and ribcage.

"P-pe-e-ermi-i-ss-ss-ion t-t-t-o-"

"Permission granted," Tony snapped as he crouched down, and the android went limp as his higher sensors shut off, cutting off the pain response. "So much for fewer complications." He helped his partner pick the mass of destroyed metal and false skin up, the house's mechanical cleaner mice already skittering out of their hiding spots in the walls to gather up the pieces that had blown off.

"What do we do with _him_?" Sam asked from the heap in the doorway, and he bit off an automatic reply, glancing instead to Tony for an answer. He may have held the leader position, but it wasn't _his_ creation that had just been attacked in _his_ house.

"Check him for other weapons. _Thoroughly,"_ Tony said after taking a deep breath to get his composure together. "Then keep him upstairs for now. "

"Are you sure that's-" Jan started to ask as the gun, oddly enough, _flattened_ in her hands, and Tony cut her off with a shake of his head. Picking up on what he wanted to say, Steve spoke for him before his temper fuse shorted again.

"We promised help with the mission, and we're still giving it. Once Ty's back on his feet, though, we're keeping them separated, and getting an explanation as to what the hell _this_ was all about."

 

 

**************************************************

 

 

Steve -Or "Rogers", as they'd dubbed him, to keep the two straight- paced the room he'd been given once the dust had settled in agitation. Dammit. He'd lost control.

But he'd been given his first likely target, as well.  Finding out the hard way that the bastard was a _robot_ here put him at the top of the suspect list. Digging into the layers of his uniform, he found the small pad sandwiched between layers of body armor. Maybe his weapons were gone, but he could at least still keep an eye on what was going on in this damn place. Not least of all, what Stone was up to. Opening up the spypad, he tucked a small piece of the android that he'd managed to palm into the sensory grid and keyed instructions to the tiny camera nanites before blowing them out on their way.

"Is this really necessary, sir?" piped up a familiar, accented voice, and he looked up from his work.

"Jarvis?" A lens over the door wiggled, then snaked down on a stalk to look at him eye to 'eye'. Ah. Of course. Another AI. "And what does he have you do, then?" he asked dryly.

"Any house maintenance and upkeep that does not require hands. He has Tiberius for that," the system drawled. "But that is not the point of our discussion, now, is it?"

"The nanites have no weapons capability," he replied, turning away from the 'eye'. To his annoyance, he followed.  "And yes, this investigation is necessary. I'm not going to make the same mistake as a little while ago." It wasn't entirely a lie, and the AI seemed to at least sense enough truth to placate it. Somewhat.

"Even so, sir, I will be keeping watch over your little devices," it said, snaking around to halt him in his tracks by coming within an inch of his nose with its lens. "And if they _do_ show any aggressive tendencies, this room will be placed on lockdown. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

Satisfied, the 'eye' returned to its spot over his bedroom door, and he sat down on the bed to monitor the progress of his little cameras. They'd made it as far as the kitchen, and he caught a brief glimpse of this world's Jan putting away the uneaten lunch. Forcibly ignoring a brief, biting pang in his chest, he urged them onward, and gradually, they made their way down to a basement laboratory.  Most of the house denizens never appeared, but Steve at least was watching -with some mild amusement- as Stark fitted in a mechanical arm to replace the one he'd shot off, a much more rudimentary robot trying to assist by handing over parts when called.

- _"Don't sulk so much, Ty,"-_ Stark was saying. _-"It's only a temporary fix until Hank gets some more synthetic skin shipped in."-_

 _-"Mmph,"-_ the android replied, expression radiating the sort of petulance that could only come with wounded vanity as he tentatively moved the fingers of the mass of metal and circuits. _-"Will I still be able to work with this? It doesn't feel as flexible."-_

 _-_ " _You've lost a little dexterity in that hand for now, yes, and it's not heat proof. You'll have to actually use cooking mitts on that hand for awhile."-_

 _-"Actually,"-_ Steve piped up. _-"It would probably be best to not be in the kitchen at all for awhile. Considering his...less than amiable reaction to you, it's likely our guest probably won't touch anything you make."-_

 _-"His loss,"-_ Stone grouched with a sniff. _-"If he won't eat it, then he doesn't deserve it."-_

He snorted faintly, but the two humans on camera seemed to find the puffing up merely amusing. -" _You sure Hank didn't give you the core for a cat instead of a person?"-_ Steve asked Stark, and Rogers perked up at the first bit of information he'd gotten so far. This world's Pym was somehow involved with Stone's creation. That opened a possibility that he might be tied to artificial intelligence somehow, like others he'd met in his line of work. It wasn't much by itself, but at least now he had a searching point-

A knock on the door made him look up, and he snapped the pad closed. The nanites were still recording, though, and he could check that later.

 

 

Unfortunately, it seemed his leads were going nowhere. For all the promise of information assistance, his earlier error in judgment had caused the others to close rank. Sure, they _acted_ nice enough, but no one was willing to answer questions, even the witch, the archer, and the cat when he'd crossed paths with them. And least of all the person he had the most to ask. He hadn't seen hide, nor hair of Pym in over a week, and even after forcing himself to ask this world's Janet, all he'd gotten was that the man was holed up with an experiment for the time being. It was frustrating, especially since he still couldn't contact his Timebroker to find out what sort of frame he was working on.

How long he had left to stop everything from going to hell.

There were other things that bothered him about this place besides those two, though. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen universes where his counterparts were... _close_ with the resident Stark, but never to the level of comfortable ease of these two. This universe's Steve didn't even mind that Stark kept the android so close at hand, something that had never failed to rile those in worlds where Stone had been human. For now, he was just chalking it up to a lack of humanity being a lack of a threat, though he still found it strange. And as for Stark himself, he seemed oddly open. More willing to talk to him than the rest, even with his mistrust of the man's house robot hanging over them like a cloud. Of course, their topics never seemed to _involve_ said robot, which likely helped in the matter. Considering what they _did_ often end up discussing, it seemed that Stark's scientific curiosity was winning over his suspicion.

Which, now that he thought about it, gave him an idea as to how to get what he needed.

"A scan?" Stark asked when he made his offer.

"Every research source I've found on artificial intelligence in this world has a giant gap in it, and no one seems willing to fill in the blanks for free. So I'm offering a trade. Further explanation of the Exiles process via my brain, in return for what I want to know."

A faint spark appeared in Stark's eyes that he knew very well from similar faces. He'd piqued that point of interest, at least. But he still wasn't sure it would be enough, not with the way everyone was protecting the two he was most suspicious of, so he tried not to hold his breath.

"I'll have to check in," Stark finally said. "But I think we might be able to make a deal." Palming a small comm from God knew where, the man tapped a couple of keys. "Mrs. A., I need to ask a favor. No, nothing like that. Hold my afternoon calls, please, and put me in touch with Hank, would you?"

Finally. Maybe now. he'd get somewhere.

 

 

The memory scan had left him with an uncomfortable feeling like his brain was itching. Once he had returned to his room, a very formidable-looking older woman in glasses had left him with a box full of computer chips and a small device to study them with. Raking a hand through his hair -and resisting the compulsion to scratch- he dug into the box and found them thankfully sorted by year. After checking in with his nanites again and finding nothing new in their reports, he inserted the first chip into the reading device to begin recording notes.

By the fifth chip, he was beginning to see Pym's reluctance to talk to him and Janet's protectiveness of the matter as justified, if more than a little disturbing. "University project, second doctorate thesis," he muttered to himself, committing his notes to memory as he worked in case he couldn't keep the recording device with him. "Artificial intelligence skeletons created, dubbed 'personality cores'. Intelligence and personality capabilities range from the equivalence of a housepet to fully human function. University takes control of the project, gets government clearance for test-market in public sector."

The first incidents weren't all that clear. But the more he read, the more the pattern developed. Owners treating their creations with personality cores as appliances to be used and abused as they saw fit, despite the warnings of the creator. And everything that can feel pain eventually bites back. Maybe this apocalypse was going to be a _rebellion_ and not- wait a second.

"Year five; civilian-grade personality cores banned from market," he murmured, scanning down the file. "All creations containing civilian-grade _confiscated_ for military modification or shutdown and disposal _..._ "

And yet here was Stone, wandering about the house as free as you please, though now that he thought about it, the nanites had yet to ever see him go _out_ in the not-quite-week that he'd been running them.

He drummed his fingers on the casing of the device, thinking. The records seemed to put Pym in the clear, as it was evident that he'd tried every failsafe possible against the issues of bad owner treatment. However, if Steve hadn't been _entirely_ joking, Pym had also personally given Stark the core necessary to create his android. And whether Stone had been made before or after the ban didn't particularly matter, he was still an illegal creation being kept in secret... if he was _aware_ of that status, maybe that would be the spark. Surely if Stone had the capability for human emotion, there was also that capability for _resentment,_ even if Stark personally seemed to be treating the robot well.

He would still need to do more research and observation to be sure of this, though. Clicking open the spypad, he sent an order to the nanites to up their level of surveillance.

 

 

He was a full seven days into his research and observation -his relationship with the house denizens hadn't improved much, but at it had warmed enough that he'd been able to stop worrying about the possibility of poison in his food or other nasty surprises- when Steve approached him in the backyard gardens. "Yes?" he asked without looking up from his work.

"We think we've found a suitable compromise between you and Tiberius," the other him said, motioning for him to follow. Suspicious, but curious, he closed the reader and got up.

"What sort of compromise?" he asked as they headed to the stairs that led to the basement lab.

"Well, now that his arm has been fully rebuilt, and the worry over his basic functions is over, Tony and Hank can do more delicate work on him. They'll be stripping out his weapons systems for the time being."

He paused and stared at Steve, more than a little surprised. "And...he _agreed_ to this?" That didn't fit with his observations so far. While the android was typically placid about maintenance or improvement alterations to himself, he'd noticed that Stone seemed to bristle at anything that would regress him from his current state, like the rudimentary temporary arm he'd seen the android fitted with a week earlier.

"It was his idea, actually," Steve replied cheerily, before turning a little more serious. "There's also going to be a failsafe installed, which he doesn't know about."

"What sort of failsafe?" he asked. Though he'd been keeping his studies to himself as of late, not wanting a repeat of the incident in the dining room, they had to have known by now the patterns lurking in his memories. Maybe that had been enough to finally get them to take the possibility of Stone being a threat seriously. And when the other him replied "Full systems shutdown," he felt a tiny bit more solid about that.

The android in question was lying on a table in the lab, talking quietly with his creators. He couldn't hear what was being said through the glass separating them from the "operating room", and the angles of their heads kept him from reading what was being said as Stark and Pym bustled about, setting up tools and devices. As they waited at the window, he saw Janet and Wilson come up on Steve's other side, but carefully kept himself from acknowledging either, keeping his eyes on the action in the other room. Finally, Stark gave an order he _could_ read, and Stone powered himself down, eyes briefly going glassy before closing so that his master could cut through the synthetic skin.

Aside from the sheer _number_ of weapons being removed -Stark must have created the android to act as a house _guard_ as well, he decided- the "surgery" seemed to be on the same level as routine maintenance. He noticed at one point, Stark got an odd expression on his face as he worked on Stone's "brain", and motioned Pym over to look as well. Debate over where to put the failsafe, most likely. He filed the scene away in his head, but didn't really assign any special importance to it. As plating was closed up and the two began stitching false skin back together to let it "heal", Steve motioned him into the room as Janet and Wilson hung back, talking quietly about something, and Pym went out to join them.

Stone woke up as they approached the table, and sat up. "How are you feeling?" Stark asked him, and Rogers didn't especially like that odd, misty smile the android gave in return.

"Lighter. Other than that, functionally unchanged."

"Good. Maybe now you two can actually get along," Stark replied, helping his creation down off the table, and he felt his skin prickle when Stone looked at him, expression closing up into something mostly unreadable. Except for a very faint trace of smug, which wouldn't have been out of place on any of the human variants he'd known, but suddenly felt _off_ in this situation.

"Of course, sir."

He bit his tongue, resisting the sudden itch in his fingers to reach for a weapon that wasn't there as Steve carefully slid past him to go help as Stark ran a quick systems scan. Trying not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling, he glanced over to the window and noticed that the other witnesses had turned very serious at whatever Pym was saying. He was curious to find out what it might be, but this was more important, and he turned his attention back to the room as the others abandoned their spot by the window.

"All right. Everything seems to be running smoothly. I'd go easy on any physical labor, though. Those gaps in your internals are going to leave you a bit weaker until we have enough material to fill the space."

"Yes, sir. Should I begin dinner now?"

Something was still off, and he didn't see how neither Stark, nor Steve noticed it. "I think I'll get back to work as well," he muttered as he turned to leave, that prickling feeling in his skin getting worse as he felt the android watch him go.

 

 

The next few days did nothing to assuage his newfound feelings of discomfort. While his previous observations had been that Stone mostly kept to himself and stuck to his chores unless his presence was requested by one of the house residents, lately, he seemed to be everywhere. Even to the point of injecting input into mission discussions, which he had never seen the android do before. And even stranger, no one seemed to mind, or even _notice,_ aside from him. Stark had even actively praised the android when a not-so-subtle push towards a different method of attack had actually proven effective.

The simple fact that Stone's intrusion seemed to be _helpful_ had given him the brief wonder if maybe he was just being paranoid. But that was always how it had gone before, wasn't it? Outwardly being affectionate and supportive while secretly laying lethal plots. The only problem was, aside from Stone's new attachment level to his creator, and clear dislike of _him,_ he couldn't find any _evidence_ of said plots.

That didn't make the feeling go away, though. Especially not when Stark called a full team meeting, and, unlike the few previous that he'd seen, Stone was present, hovering close to his creator's side. A position usually occupied by Steve. And when he glanced out of the corner of his eye at his counterpart, the latter didn't seem especially pleased about this. Maybe Stone had been insinuating himself into things in more ways than one, he considered, but put the thought aside when Stark started talking.

The information quickly got his attention more than any odd behavior did. Via using location technology that he had built into the android and other systems in the house, Stark had picked up an unusual signal with a source located in Belgium, that seemed to be targeting higher computer systems. The 'like AIs' went unsaid, but not unheard, and while he was mildly annoyed that Stark had been assisting without _telling_ him, _especially_ that he'd been allowing Stone to work on the hunt as well, the fact that they now had a high-level, _solid_ lead was more important than any squabbling over who'd found it.

"When do we check it out?" he asked, and Stark gave him a roguish grin in response.

"We're out of here as soon as the Quinjet's gas tank is full."

When he went back to his room to retrieve his uniform and get ready, he was pleasantly surprised to find that some of his weaponry had been returned. The team commanders must have been feeling good about this lead indeed. He didn't want to necessarily get his hopes up, but at the same time, he wouldn't exactly be crying if this did turn out to be _the_ one. This place wasn't nearly as horrible as some that he'd been to, but there were still... certain unnerving elements. Thoroughly checking each gun, he found that while they'd clearly been taken apart for study, nothing had been stripped or replaced incorrectly. He would have preferred a few test fires, just to be _absolutely_ sure that everything was in working order, but there wasn't time for that. Stowing the firearms away in his uniform, he shut down the nanites and tucked the spypad back into its hiding place as he finished getting dressed and headed to join the crew.

He wasn't expecting to see Stone aboard the plane as well. "What is _he_ doing here?"

Pym looked up from rewiring a console. "Codebreaking. If we're right about this place, then even with distraction elements, we're going to be looking at heavy defenses. We need someone who can get into the systems faster than Iron Man or I could."

He eyed the android warily as he took a seat next to Falcon. It was a reasonable enough explanation, sure, but the smile that Stone gave him did nothing to ease his suspicions. It seemed that the lack of weapons was making the others trust the thing entirely too much as of late.

"You okay?" Falcon asked. "You're lookin' a little pale all of a sudden."

"Just peachy," he replied, making his nerves calm down a bit, but at the same time resolving to keep an eye on the android during the mission.

"All right," Cap said as he claimed one of the pilot chairs. "With a base the size that Iron Man's speculating, we'll need to split into two teams to make sure we get in. Who wants to play distraction this time?"

"I don't mind annoying a few robots," Hawkeye said with a grin. "We all know I've got being irritating down to an art anyway," he added, which got a snort from Falcon.

"I'd rather run infiltration, but I'm sure there are enough birds in the area who'd like to come play."

"I believe I'll go with them as well," Scarlet Witch added, and Cap marked down a note on the battle plan.

"So we've got Witch and Hawk handling fireworks, as well as every avian species within ten miles to get the attention of the guy at the top of the castle. Ty's going to be our tool in. The rest of you, keep on your toes. Just because we _have_ a distraction, and a codebreaker, that doesn't mean there won't be traps to get past. We get in, find the boss and his plan, throw a wrench in it, and get out."

"Just a stroll in the park," Tigra muttered with a faintly amused expression as they all buckled in, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't going to be as easy as it seemed.

 

 

He'd been right so far, to a degree. Even though they'd been expecting heavy defenses, the sheer _amount_ of firepower the base seemed to have still caught them by surprise. As they returned fire, taking out as many of the mechanical turrets as possible, Stone ripped a panel of metal away from the central lock to the door they'd found, reaching into the wiring. He couldn't read what the android was muttering, the shots aimed at them commanding a little more attention, but just as Tigra yowled when a laser made it past Wasp to graze her arm, there was a crow of "We're in!" as the heavy steel door swished up.

Once inside and no longer being shot at, Wasp tore off part of her sleeve to bandage Tigra's arm. "That was fast," Tigra said, hiding a wince at the pressure the cloth put on the burn. A little _too_ fast, as far as he was concerned, but kept his mouth shut as, even in the armor, Iron Man exuded a faint air of pride.

"Because I build the best," Iron Man replied, and Stone puffed up a little at the praise. "Ty, guide."

"Yes, sir."

For all the base had been bristling with guns on the outside, the inside was surprisingly empty, save a couple of easily dispatched guard robots and security cameras. He kept an eye on Stone when each one was put down, but the android's expression remained one of concentration as he hacked door locks and tracked their route with ease. "You seem to know where we're going pretty well," he finally said, careful to keep his tone neutral enough that Iron Man wouldn't bristle.

"All systems are connected to a central information hub. I took the schematics of the base when I was getting us in."

That was...convenient. He had no way to _prove_ yet that the android wasn't doing exactly as he'd been ordered, however, so he let the matter drop until they came to a massive blast-protected door. Iron Man moved forward and gave it a thump to gauge its thickness. "Goddamn. This thing's heavy. Ty, what are we looking at?"

"Vehicle storage," Stone said, and this close, he could see a faint, glowing sheen over the android's eyes as it calculated what it was seeing.  "Intended to later be weapons storage."

"Which explains the need for such a heavy door," Falcon muttered. "Any way we can route around it?"

"No, sir. The only paths outside of it are ducts."

"I'm not getting any live readings in it," Pym said from a spot further down the door. "Are there any mechanical guards stationed to it?"

"None, sir."

Surprising, considering this _was_ scheduled to be a weapons bay, and they all glanced to Cap for orders. "Get us in. We'll deal with whatever pops up," he finally said, and Stone moved to open up the keypad panel. Unlike the passageways and rooms they'd been through so far, the bay was pitch black, without even the security lights to see by. "How far to the exit?" Cap asked, but before there was any response, Iron Man made a noise of alarm.

" _Get dow-"_

Weapons fire cut him off before he could finish the warning, and they all dove for cover as massive bug-like robots came swarming out out of the thick shadows with clear intent to kill. He swore under his breath as he returned shots. This shouldn't be happening. There shouldn't be so damn _many._ They'd been told-

He looked from behind the barrier he was crouched behind, and discovered Stone was nowhere to be found. "God _dammit,_ " he muttered. He'd _known_ something like this was going to happen; he _should_ have just broken the fucking thing before they'd come out here, but-  Before he could get up, a heavy metal hand stopped him. On reflex, he turned to aim before realizing it was Iron Man, not one of the bugs.

"He's mine," the armor rumbled, and he couldn't help a faint shiver as it tore through a nearby wall to hunt down the fleeing android. This world's Stark was more easygoing than most, but it appeared to react to betrayal in much the same way.

"How the hell do we get out of here?" Wasp called. "They just keep coming!"

"I found a weak spot in the floor," he heard Pym from somewhere in the future weapons hanger. "Can't see for sure, but I think it's a disposal chute." There was the sound of screeching metal, then "There are security lights below! There's a repair tunnel connected to it."

"Any port in a storm," Cap said from somewhere to his left, and the shield came slicing through several of the drones. "Let's move!"

Firing half-blindly at the glowing eyes of the bugs, he made his way across the hall and into the bay, heading for the dim red glow with Cap right behind him. They dove in just after Wasp, barely avoiding shots aimed at their backs. He made a huff of surprise, landing on something relatively soft with a thump.

"Could you possibly move _before_ they figure out we aren't dead and start firing down the chute?" asked a strained, deep rumble above his head, and he realized Pym had grown to squish himself into the chute and act as net. Quickly, they scrambled into the repair tunnel, and he glanced back to see Wasp pulling Pym in as he shrank back to normal size, nursing bruised or broken ribs.

"So where do we go from here?" Tigra asked.

"Can't do any worse than being led into a trap," Falcon pointed out reasonably. "You whole enough to run scans, doc?"

"I'll manage," Pym replied, straightening a bit, but Wasp stuck close just in case.

"Good. Maybe between your tech and my eyes, we can find our own way to whoever's at the top of this castle."

"What hit you?" Cap asked, also keeping an eye on the way the man moved.

"Those things are mindless. They'll use _each other_ as melee weapons if a target's too big for one," Pym said, and they _all_ winced at that. "I'll be fine, though. Really."

"If you say so," Cap said , though it was clear he was still concerned, and backed off to let the two work on finding a route.

Rogers looked up when the man dropped into a crouch next to him. "Look...for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I know Stark was attached to that thing."

Cap eyed him sidelong, and he couldn't tell in the dim light what his counterpart was thinking. After a moment, though, the man nodded faintly. "We weren't expecting giant mechanical bugs. Frankly, I thought a surprise furnace or something would be more likely."

He blinked, surprised. "Wait, you _knew-"_

He was gently cut off with a hand motion. "When Hank and Tony were doing the surgery to strip out the weaponry, Tony found evidence of a rogue signal transmitting into Ty's head," he started, and suddenly Rogers remembered that weird expression Stark had made during the operation. "They determined that they could either cut it off, and thus lose the chance to find out where it was coming from and who it was responsible, or allow it to continue and run the risk that they might not be able to fix Ty later."

"So he wasn't plotting, he was puppeted," he said, the realization dawning, and Cap nodded.

"It wasn't until we started setting up this mission that we realized whoever was controlling him was intentionally leading us in. Whoever this is, they want us dead before any more stages of the plan go through."

"And what _is_ the plan?"

"Hank thinks that hacking Ty's personality core was a test run. Civilian grade cores may be much more _rare_ than military grade, but they also have less encryption."

And suddenly, it all clicked into place. "So if our shadowy whatever could manage to completely control a civilian android as advanced as Stone, then the next stage would be military robots. Less advanced brains, but still harder to hack. Son of a bitch is going to kick all this off by turning a robot army against the government."

"Exactly. We have no proof that they've gotten to the stage they _can_ control military grade, at least on a widespread scale, but they're clearly getting ready for it, or they wouldn't want so badly to take us out."

"Goddamn," he muttered, rubbing his head. Part of him was annoyed that he hadn't been warned about any of this. But thinking back on his prior actions, he wasn't sure he would have believed them if they _had_ given him all this information in advance. "But wait, then what was the point of Stark going after Stone? Just to continue the charade of having been led around by the nose?"

"Oh, make no mistake, Tony's _pissed,"_ Cap said, an odd expression crossing his face. "His creations are his pride and joy. Going through with this plan was like having to sit back and watch one of his own children get mind controlled. He'll do his best not to actually hurt Ty, though."

"The failsafe."

"Got it in one. I know I told you it's a full system shutdown, but it's really more like a hard reboot. If we're lucky, the last backup was made before he started being a puppet."

"But until then, Stone's going to be playing for keeps, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Good thing he has no weapons capabilities currently, though that's not much of a comfort when he's still got the strength. Tony'll handle it, though, I'm sure of it."

He had to admit, he was kind of impressed by the conviction. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such faith in his teammates, when they'd been around. Before he could say anything, though, there was an audible _beep_ from nearby, and Falcon and Pym were grinning when they got up. "We got our route?"

"We're good to go."

"Then let's roll," Cap said, and they all fell in as they followed the little tracking device Pym held.

 

 

Even without intentional traps, the going wasn't easy. Like any good video game, there were more obstacles as they drew nearer to their goal. "If these bastards have any sense-" he grouched as he blasted through a guard, "-they've already cleared out of here."

"Well, cross fingers and hope for some old-school villain theatrics, then," Falcon said, swooping over to knock down two more.

"Or that we didn't just get jinxed further," Wasp agreed. "Not sure why the hell these guys want the military bots so badly, if they can make all these."

"These aren't as durable. More than that, they can't think, which makes them only good for this kind of fight," Pym said, crunching another one, and in the back of his head, he felt sorry for the guy. Not just for the fact that he was visibly looking worse -if he'd only been bruised before, he was definitely downgraded to broken now- but for the fact that this was _his_ work being fucked with. Again. If this had been like watching a child get mind controlled for Stark, what had the entire plan been like for him?

A burst from a bug-mounted flamethrower barely missed his head, and he shoved the thought further into the depths of his mind. Fight now, worry later. From what they could tell, there was only one more hallway to get through. Which meant it was time for a special little surprise he'd been saving. "Hit the deck!" he snapped, flinging a small, chip-like device into the melee, and the other humans all dove flat as it sent a shockwave tearing through the bugs, ripping off pieces and halves.

"Jesus," Falcon muttered as he got to his feet. "Why the hell didn't you use that thing earlier?"

"Only had one."

"Fair enough," Cap said, glancing to Wasp and Pym. When she shook her head, he turned back to Rogers. "Got any other surprises that might get us through that last door?"

He dug out the last gun that still had any power to it and aimed for the seam between the heavy steel doors, then the control mechanism. A flung shield sliced the rest of the way through, and he and his counterpart hit them with full weight, sending the panels crashing to the floor.

"Cut and run it is," Cap said, disgusted, when they found an empty control center inside. "We'll cannibalize their computer systems, get all the information we can."

"If there's any le-" Tigra started to say, but Wasp elbowed her lightly to cut off any potential further bad luck as they spread out to start working on the systems. A familiar rumble of repulsor boots gave them a heads up before Iron Man dropped through one of the used escape hatches, carrying a very dazed-looking Stone. "Damn, we missed all the fun."

"Not yet. Our targets are gone, but they didn't have time for harddrive wipes. Ty up for doing some more hacking?" Cap asked, and though he still looked disoriented, Stone sketched a weak salute, wandering unsteadily over to one of the workstations.

Watching the android, Cap leaned closer to Iron Man, and he heard the quiet mutter of "What happened?"

"Had to knock his stabilizers out of commission to keep him from taking my head off before I could use the failsafe. Didn't know androids could _get_ airsick, but he's gonna be a bit of a mess until we get ho-"

"Sir, there's a problem."

"What's up?" Wasp asked as Iron Man scowled faintly and went to peer over his creation's shoulder.

"The systems are starting to close ranks. Our 'friends' must have left a shutdown code in case we got this far." He looked up at Rogers. "You any good with computers?"

"Not a genius, but fair."

"Good enough. Yellowjacket, take over that console. Wasp, act as his hands if you have to. Falcon and Cap, I need you watching the output reactors for any spikes that might mean we're losing info. Rogers, take that secondary console. Tigra, keep an eye out for any more robots coming our way. And Ty, help me plug in before anything else goes."

They scattered to their stations, Stone continuing to break encryption through his own connection as he prepped the armor to begin downloading. Thankfully, these characters, while smart enough to orchestrate all this, weren't smart enough to initiate a deletion sequence by level of importance. While they lost some minor files, the data they were primarily looking for was well on its way to storage when Cap made an alert motion at the same time Iron Man jerked slightly. "Ty, what the hell was that code the system just sent out?"

"It appears to be a command code, sir. To what, I'm not sure ye-"

' _Hey!'_ They all jumped when Hawkeye's voice suddenly cracked over their communicators after such a long silent period. ' _What the hell are you guys doing in there? The base just fired_ something _sky high!'_

 __Pym swore quietly and he and Iron Man looked at each other. "They wouldn't be _that_ stupid."

"From what we've seen so far, hell, yes, they would."

"What?" Rogers asked. "So stupid as to what?"

"The only way that controlling personality cores on a widespread enough scale to cripple the US military would be via a government satellite. But based on their control of Ty, they aren't _ready_ for that level of usage. They have to be speeding up the plan because we didn't die like we were supposed to," Pym said, and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd been wrong about the cause again, but this time it was because of _their_ own intervention.

"So when they fuck up and the signal doesn't work right, their little robot army is more likely to just start attacking _anyone_ instead of following their orders, isn't it?" he asked, and Pym nodded.

"Is there any way to bring what they shot off _back_ before that can happen _?_ " Falcon asked, and the two dug back into the systems, working quickly.

"Ty, patch in," Iron Man ordered. "We need a faster-running OS." The android complied, producing a small plug that went from the back of his neck into a computer port, and Rogers watched with interest as that allowed the other two to use him as a database filter. After another thirty seconds, though, Pym swore again.

"There's no onboard computer. The thing doesn't have a thinking guidance system, just a pre-programmed set of coordinates. We can bring it back before it can reach a military satellite, but-"

"It'd take manual guidance," Cap finished for him, and both men nodded. Then Iron Man straightened.

"Wasp, go grab Tigra. Ty can guide the lot of you through the escape hatches. It'll be the fastest way to get out, and no robots to block the way. If this goes right, you'll have about five minutes, tops, so get moving."

Wasp blinked at him. "Wait, what? Five minutes _why_?"

"Because he's planning on bringing it back _here,_ " Pym said, eyeing the armor. "Aren't you?"

"We have all the information we need stored in both the armor and Ty's core. If we can bring the missile back here, it not only takes out their primary method of getting to the satellites, but keeps them from coming back to try and use this base again when we're gone, without us losing anything valuable. Two birds with one stone."

Falcon stared at him incredulously. "Have you lost your goddamn _mind?_ An explosion big enough to take out the base _with you in it_ is suicide!"

He noticed that both Cap and the android were being oddly silent throughout this exchange. Considering how close his counterpart and Stark were, he'd been expecting some kind of opposition to the plan. Or from the android, if his proper programming was back in place. But instead they both seemed to be watching Iron Man, apparently gauging something. What, or even if it was the same thing for them both, he couldn't tell.

"It's _not_ suicide," Iron Man insisted, flipping up the visor of the helmet. "The armor's already calculated the impact point and likely force. Wearing it, I have over sixty per cent better chance of surviving the explosion than anyone else who could stay to guide that thing in."

"Sixty per cent better than zero still isn't a very good side of the odds," Stone finally spoke up quietly, expression unreadable.

"I _know_ that. But the longer we stand here arguing about it, the longer that missile has to reach its target. You guys have to trust me on this one. I'll be fine."

There were uncomfortable glances all around, before they all finally looked to Cap once again for the decision. He could read the faint traces of pain in the man's expression and, having been in a similar situation before, didn't envy him the slightest in having to make the call. Cap finally took a deep breath. "Wasp, go get Tigra. We're moving out." She bit her lip, but nodded, and everyone else headed towards the ladder and catwalk that lead to the tunnels for the escape pods. After a few seconds, Wasp fluttered up to join them and Tigra climbed up after her, but they still didn't see their guide.

Rogers leaned over the railing to get a look, and saw Stone conversing -no, _arguing,_ which was a surprise- low and urgently with his creator. Then he noticed the android was still plugged into the console, and realized what was going to happen even before Stone managed to bodily _fling_ the man, armor and all, up in their direction. "Incoming!" Cap looked up in surprise before quickly moving to help him intercept the airborne figure before he could go _over_ the other side of the catwalk. Even between the two of them, the armor was heavy enough that it almost dragged them with it, Falcon and Tigra intervening to help pull him back in.

Looking over the railing again, he saw Stone plug himself into another console as well as the one he was already attached to, and that feeling of dread came back, for entirely different reasons than he'd been holding on to since he'd arrived here. "We have to go. Now."

For the briefest moment, it looked like Iron Man would argue. Then he slumped a little in Cap's hold, resigned. "Wasp, Yellowjacket, shrink down and find some place in the armor to hide. Everyone else, hang on as tight as you can."

 

 

"Is this really necessary?" Tigra asked, and it was hard to hear over the screaming rush of air as they blasted through the tunnels the escape pods had used.

"Ty's processors operate at a level similar to or better than the armor's, without any human thought to slow them down," Iron Man replied, his voice a tight rumble even over the noise. "I designed them that way so he'd be able to match Jarvis in playing assistant, since Dummy's useful most of the time, but the name's pretty much exactly what he is. However, that means Ty's gonna be able to get into the missile's system and bring it down faster than I could, which gives less escape time."

Light flared ahead, turning into sky and trees as they shot out of the side of the base. Cap had already sent the signal to Hawkeye and Scarlet Witch to get the hell clear, and the armor homed in on their return signal. Over the noise of the armor and wind, he could hardly hear anything now-

-except for the sudden 'beep' in his head that coincided with both his arm flaring red and the momentary new scream of air behind them before the ominous rumble the base going up in an expanding fireball. 'Wasn't kidding about the shortened escape time,' he thought rather absurdly in the back of his head, this not exactly being the time for sarcasm. He knew that with all of them clinging, the armor couldn't risk an additional burst of speed to escape, their bodies would have been able to handle _that_ even even less  than-

There was a sudden painful _whump_ as the shockwave caught up with them, breaking the desperately fleeing huddle apart. For the briefest moment, he saw trees approaching at a way too fast speed.

Then everything went black.

 

 

When he weakly cracked his eyes open, Scarlet Witch and an unfamiliar figure in black and white were leaning over him. Flight reaction nearly kicked in, before his brain caught up and he realized he was looking at a S.H.I.E.L.D. medic. "Ngh. Casualties?" he rasped, tasting dirt. Witch helped him slowly sit up as he spat it out with a gag.

"Surprisingly, no one," she said as the medic signaled her before getting up and leaving. "Yellowjacket's worst off. Fractured collarbone and ribs."

"The ribs were a pre-existing condition. Dunno if anyone mentioned it."

"Wasp said as much. He's pretty lucky nothing's punctured; I can't imagine being tossed into a tree branch at that size and speed with previous injuries being that pleasant."

He made a faint snort at the dry tone. "Anyone else?" he asked, checking himself over and finding that his head was bandaged.

"Well, as you can already tell, you took a bit of a concussion. You actually woke up once a few minutes ago-" he didn't remember that. Must've been what got him the diagnosis. "Tigra's got a couple of nasty burns. Both the laser graze, and the fact that fur dealt with that explosion a lot less well than any of your costumes. Scratches and bruises for everyone else."

"Lucky us," he muttered, and she helped him to his feet.

"Go easy."

He opened his mouth, then subsided at a faint warning look. "Yes'm." He still needed to find Stark, though, and gingerly made his way through the heat-singed trees and over ground ruts. When he located the man in question, however, he held off for a moment. Stark was leaning heavily on his counterpart, helmet and mask shed as they talked quietly, and from their stances, he wondered if the former had merely refused to disclose injuries that the armor was hiding. But as he got closer, the look on Stark's face made it a little more clear: it wasn't a physical pain. He cleared his throat, making them both jump slightly. "No communication?"

Stark turned his head. "Nothing. I've tried every communication frequency we have."

"Maybe it's just a disruption, not full systems destruction," he said, pretending not to see Steve's mouth twitch into a faintly approving smile at his attempt at consolation. "S.H.I.E.L.D. cleared anyone to search the grounds yet?"

"Still waiting," Stark replied, and he nodded, moving a respectful distance away to let them talk while they all continued to do just that.

As he sat down in the grass, he eyed his arm. He knew he didn't just imagine that flare from when they were trying to escape, but when he touched the Tallus, it seemed as dead as it had been since he'd arrived here. "You're useful at the weirdest times," he muttered to it, restraining himself from fiddling once again with the mechanism in an attempt to get it to wake back up. Instead, he rested his head on his knees to let his brain knit a bit. Now that he thought about it, he was hurting surprisingly little. Medic must have given him something when he came around the first time.

It was nearly an hour before something in the armor beeped, and he slowly looked up to see Stark scowl at his gauntlet. "They letting people in?"

"Certain areas still restricted," Stark muttered. "But at least we can get to ground zero." He closed up the panel in his arm and pulled his helmet back on. "You two hang on," he added, and Rogers got to his feet to comply.

 

 

When they landed in what was left of the control room, he was suddenly much less sure about finding the android in any repairable, much less _working,_ condition. The panel consoles they'd been standing at not too long before had been flattened, their parts blown into tiny bits of shrapnel that was embedded in pieces of flooring still clinging to what framework underneath it was spared, or melted into the walls that hadn't been blown out. He heard a faint noise that sounded like pain from the armor, and Cap put a hand on Iron Man's shoulder before they split up to search.

He drummed his fingers against his thigh, thinking. No sense in checking the point where he'd last seen the android standing. Better to assume he might have been blown through one of the walls, or ended up going through the floor. Picking a wall hole in the direction of the console Stone had been using, he crouched near a pile of debris and begin digging. He'd made it about halfway through the mess when suddenly, the Tallus flared again. And this time, there was an answering blue flare from deep within another hole. "Stark! I may have found something!"

Iron Man looked up, then landed by his side in a blink. "Let me look," the armor rumbled, and he obligingly straightened and stepped back. Iron Man knelt, digging deep into sharp shrapnel and wall pieces with ease, and the blue glow got brighter briefly, before dimming as he pulled out some sort of metal and plastic container. One that he recognized from his research into this place.

"That's-" Cap started to say as he came up behind them, and Iron Man nodded.

"Ty's core. Hank's probably going to kill me when he finds out I used a vibranium casing for it, but in this case, it seems to be the only reason this survived. Nothing else in his body was made from it."

Even with the voice modulators, Rogers didn't fail to notice the tightness in the other man's tone, and Cap reached out to put an arm around his partner. "Come on," Cap said, voice gentle and reassuring. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s still going over this place with a fine-toothed comb, and you've already given them all the information you collected. Let's get everyone home."

After some hesitation, the armor nodded, tucking the core away in a tiny storage compartment. Then they both grabbed hold again, and all three lifted off.

 

 

**************************************************

 

 

Steve made his way up from the laboratory with a yawn, and headed to the kitchen for a glass of juice. He was mildly surprised to find Rogers there, considering that the man had always avoided that particular room before. "Your little device is working?" he asked noticing that the red stone of the Tallus was glowing faintly as the man noodled with it.

"Mostly," his counterpart replied. "I can at least contact my Timebroker. They're going to have to bring me back with their own tech, though, since I can't get this thing to teleport yet."

He fetched a glass and a carton and took a seat across from the other man. "So, is that it? You're leaving now?"

"For now," Rogers replied, and he tilted his head slightly. "With our no-longer-mysterious friends still out there, my mission's not over yet. But the Timebroker's declared that this put enough of a setback in their plans that I can be sent on other assignments until they try to make another move. So you're not completely rid of me yet."

Steve shrugged. "I don't mind much anymore," he said, and meant it. It got a wry snort from his counterpart, and they sat in semi-companionable silence for a few minutes as Rogers worked.

"Look...about Stone..." Rogers started, and Steve raised a hand to gently cut him off.

"Don't worry about it. You had better reason than we thought to react to him as you did." The other man blinked, and he explained. "Tony assigned Jarvis to sort and catalogue the information from your memory scan, without remembering that he'd left Jarvis and Ty on the same operating frequency from his last experiment." That got a faint scowl. "I know, I know. Anyway, it was actually Ty who brought up your memories of him, or other versions of him, rather." He rested his chin on his hand as he continued. "He said that going on the basic fundamentals of probability, and the number of potential universes out there in the Cosmos, it was statistically impossible that every single counterpart of him that you'd met could have been as horrible as you remembered. And yet, there it was."

Rogers appeared to be soaking that in, then the scowl lightened. "He suspected what I already believed. A universal constant."

"Bingo. Based on the findings from your memories, and the history of artificial intelligence in our own world, he thought that it was only a matter of time before he ended up acting in a detrimental way to his master the same as the other versions of him had, even though his programming is supposed to prevent that. Believe it or not, he actually requested dismantling to keep it from ever happening."

His counterpart stared at him. "I thought you said he only suggested the weapons removal."

"I might have lied a little," he admitted, looking down at his glass. "That was actually the compromise I managed to talk him down to."

Rogers shook off the surprise, turning his attention momentarily to the Tallus before looking out the window. "I saw Stone arguing with Stark before he threw him up to us. I couldn't read most of what they said, but... I remember him saying something about a security failure. He took the blame for his own hacking, didn't he?"

"I don't know. Tony's not exactly willing to talk about it."

"Understandable." Rogers didn't take his eyes off the window. "I'm not especially sorry for my reaction. But I'll admit that at least in this one case, my instincts were wrong." Steve glanced in the direction of where Rogers was looking, and saw Jan fussing over her injured boyfriend in the back garden. It confirmed a few niggling suspicions in his head from watching his counterpart's behavior, but kept his mouth shut as Rogers managed to break the momentary trance and turn attention back to him. "That doesn't mean I'm going to be giving the next one any more benefit of the doubt, though. A broken losing streak doesn't mean a winning streak's starting."

Steve nodded, "I get it. And, actually, your instincts weren't _completely_ off. You probably saved our asses, in a chain-of-events sort of way."

Rogers gave him an odd look. "What do you mean?"

"Ty's next regular-maintenance session was scheduled for three days from now. If your memories and his own fears hadn't provoked him into requesting special surgery, we may have never found that signal being broadcast into him in time."

"And then he would have led you into a trap for real," Rogers said after a moment of thinking about it. "And when Stark went after him, he would have still had full weapons capability, and no failsafe to stop him."

"Exactly. So, at the very least, your offer to do the memory scan is the reason we still have Tony."

There was another long silence as that was digested, before his counterpart spoke up again. "So, Stark's going to be rebuilding him?"

His mouth quirked. "He's been mostly sequestered in the lab, yes. I've been having to actually carry him to bed to get him to sleep." That got another snort.

"At least he has you to look after him," the other man said, before the feel of the room turned serious. "Be careful. Make sure you make the most of it."

It gave him another little sour feeling; another suspicion confirmed. But he kept his face straight and nodded. "Don't worry. I'm not letting him vanish on me just yet."

That seemed to placate Rogers, and he closed up the Tallus before getting up from the table, stowing tools away. "I guess that's it, then. Everything's ready to go, and so am I."

On impulse, he reached out a hand, and the man blinked in surprise before accepting it for a shake. "Don't be a stranger," Steve said, teasing, and Rogers finally grinned for the first time since his arrival as something the same crimson color as the gem at his wrist began to flare up brightly behind him. Steve squinted against the glow as his counterpart faded into the light.

"I'll see you when I see you."


End file.
